A rebel without a clue.

The final leg. The bus between Serqueux and Amiens, passing Forges-les-Eaux, and memories of June heading west towards Dieppe, Rouen, Arras and Amiens(twice). Domaine des Traverses and Feuquieres in Picardie, Quiberville and Fontaine Saint-Sulplice in Caux Normandy. Where next? To stay in Amiens, Compiegne or Beauvais. It's been a long morning with this being the forth leg of getting from Bayeux. The last of four. The longest. A bus through the same area I sweated in, during June's heatwave ... How different this July from 2022? Damp and not warmer than 20. Drizzle yesterday and this morning too. Now I wait to catch ligne 601 back to Beauvais. The next time I reach will be when? I guess some distance off? But I must, repeat must, come on a Chemin. A proper one! For the good of my sanity. Twice this time I drank. Last night with the guys running La Gargouille and back in Rouen. This morning I didn't think to concern myself with getting back to airport mid morning, but it see...

I seek it in this person, in a place, in a bar, in that beer, in that wine, in a cheese, in shirts, in sandals, in socks, in breasts, in a dog, everywhere and in everything, but there is nothing external. Before the next tiring stage of the journey east I stumbled into an overpriced and over glamorous coffee, patisserie which caters to all the image you dare to project in a material existence. I looked at the Hipsters around me and barged out and took up residence on the bar at the Café Metropole where I was reminded, and amused, that JP Satre and Simone de Beauvoir lingered contemplating their existence in the same cafe, but in another time and space before their atoms became, like all good relics, tied up with mine improving this vintage at the lowest/highest level of being. Oh the humanity!

Yet more mosquitoes to battle. I bashed most with a pillow but one remained elusive and persistent - I let it succeed where the others failed and now count the bites while enjoying a tartine and coffee at a Boulangerie Capucine along from the old town, across the pont and opposite Halles aux Grains. Now I set off back to the UK  back towards Beauvais fit fo, the flight tomorrow as a breeze whips up the fallen linden blossoms. The confiture was Tiptree wild blueberry - in France! Because it's very very good jam man? Mosquitoes must love alcoholic blood types? Because of my wanton stupidity, on the spur of a tired afternoon when I could walk no further, I missed the chance to visit the tapestry. It's not going anywhere and I really don't like paying an entrance fee to view what should be for all to see regardless of means, surely? It's a thousand years old and is a internationally important document... It's existence is completely accidental... It should b...

Tough halfway to Bayeux. I nearly fell flat on my arse in a huge puddle when I really wasn't on the path, in my head, at all. Things to ponder and too many distractions which don't mean anything at all. Back to reality? Perhaps ... Back to Galette Noir at Tapioca(€18 with a pichet 50cl bio Cidre ) on the high street in Bretteville L'Orgueilleuse with only 15 kilometres to go to Bayeux... Today was tough. Even with the food I was wilting. It's humid and the area around Bayeux, called Bessin, is pretty flat. So at the roundabout heading onto the route nationale I auto-stop with a dental technician and his sweet Takt American sheepdog curled up at my feet. Gnow. From the simple to the complicated! I thought, on a whim, to catch the bus to the sea, for a couple of hours, then back for a good night's kip at the hostel situated in an old monastery near the river, just outside the old town. Getting off the bus I popped across the road to see what time they returned...

I still can't cross the Pegasus Bridge! Although a bagpiper was playing around the cluster of people and the hanging of flags. On that side industry and the canalixlzed Orne this side a Château and the canal. Straight walk into Caen and I've decided to stay a night. At the Postern gate is the old quarter. Indeed I am sat having a coffee, sheltering from the dark clouds and occasional downpours, at La Poterne , where I will stay for repase. Booked in to an Airbnb with an actual host! That's quite rare now I find as they are usually just holiday let apartments(€42). A pile of Jambon which I took to be a roast ham, but my next door neighbour look to have Gammon. I definitely had a higher pile of ham with frites and a cidre sauce: reminds me of mums. She doesn't use cider, but mustard and onions and liquid. Great Airbnb host. Perfect place. Had a puppy and two ferrets for company. Slept well until 6. Down to Paul bakery where it's yogurt, pain au raisin, Zumo Naranja an...

Washed myself, and some smalls, in room 10 of L'Ecallier(€60) in one of those half baths I have only ever squeezed into in France. Currently I am enjoying a second Ciney Blonde contemplating at Andouillette(AAAAA), I asked the chef to make sure it's well done. Tomorrow I turn my face south and head towards Le Man's. It was wide, but not long. The Andouillette. And it was local. Troyes is famous for it and it was a pale imitation of the baked in the oven loveliness I've had previously in the areas closer to it's home. But it did the trick, same as the Ciney, the bain and the coat hangers. I will be heading south for a few days. At least until Thursday, when Amiens or Paris. The head honcho is definitely on speed. I think English and Irish tourists have worn him down. He sees so many people without any real connection. He was interested I was walking el Camino from Tuesday, but he quickly went back to being rapid... *** Opposite is a couple who are too age difference ...

The story of Noah's Ark was the story of monogamy when the animals went in two by two. You work for a pittance to pay over the odds for a two week holiday in a place everyone else has escaped to fiddle the time away eating ice creams and candy floss all to see you had no experience and no money and you go back to work feeling more bitter than ever before against your children, wife, the guy with the girl in the deck chair opposite and then in October you discover you've only a few weeks left to live because you're incurable of being irrelevant... Guy from NC yesterday asked me if I had heard of Deliverance, I had, but said I hadn't. I know the story. I know how it goes... But what a way to introduce himself and his hometown... I mean it's like saying 'have you heard of The Ripper? Well I am from London'! Walking through a marshland before the Caen and Pegasus Bridge and now I have reached foot pain threshold. 35 kilometres as a donkey brays in the field nex...